Fifty-Two Reasons Why
by Ink Dropp
Summary: Three years later, and she still adores him. There are definitely more than fifty two reasons why.
1. Introduction

Today marks the end of their third year of dating, and the beginning of their fourth.

They are in love.

They hold hands as they watch a movie at his house, not caring to do anything special; it is special enough just to spend time together when he is so busy. Her head lays on his shoulders as the movie draws to a close; the hero and heroine kiss and then the closing credits roll.

He kisses her forehead, and they stand up from the couch, stretching their limbs.

"I'll be right back," he murmurs to her, disappearing into some room or another in his house. Three years they have been dating, and she can still not figure out how the house works, no matter how many tours she has been given by him or his sister. Maybe one day she will.

He reappears suddenly, a different way than he exited. She turns to face him, a smile gracing her pretty features as she brushes a lock of red hair out of her eyes.

"I have a gift for you," he says matter-of-factly.

"I have one for you, too," she replies, raising her eyebrows. It was a rule between them that gifts were not to be expensive, and something in his sly smile hinted at the fact that his gift broke their rule. She wouldn't know, though, because he spoke again.

"By all means, you go first." He is being strangely formal – she thought that they had gotten over that, but it was just falling back into old habits. They would figure it out by their next anniversary, maybe.

She fishes something out of her purse, what appears to be a deck of normal playing cards, bound together with a rubber band that has obviously seen better days, and hands them to him. He is about to put them into his pocket when she pipes up again. "Flip over the top card," she encourages him with a slight smile on his face. He undoes the rubber band, slinging it carelessly around his wrist the way she always does.

He flips over the top card, as she had instructed. It's the two of diamonds, but it states more than just the number and suit. The two diamonds in the middle are looped through with words written carefully in black Sharpie, in the handwriting he knows so well. Without reading it, he flips up the next card, and the next; each one is covered in the same careful penmanship, but with different words. He reassembles the cards carefully in their intended order.

"What is this?" He doesn't mean it to be rude, and she doesn't take it that way. He is just confused.

"Fifty-two reasons I love you," she mumbles back, suddenly abashed by his attention. "It's supposed to be bound into a little book with holes through the cards, but I only thought of it last week and I had to make sure my writing was neat." She gives him a smile, and practically drags him over to the couch in his living room, forcing him to sit down and curling up beside him. "I chose each one because I remember a story about it." She nuzzles into his neck as he begins to read them, starting with the two of diamonds.


	2. Two of Diamonds

_I love the way I am the only one who can call you Will._

"So, you're saying…yes?" His voice is unsure, but it matches the way my heart races, the way my breath catches and the way my stomach flips.

"Of course." I lean forward and kiss him on the cheek, and he takes my hand in his; we stand up together and before we walk out I flip off the camera. Let them see that! Even as my moment of bravery continued (I would never have dreamed of kissing him on camera), I could not bring myself to say those words for the whole world to see. They were meant for the two of us, and the two of us only. It took the walk down the hallway form my office, the ride down the escalator, and the walk to our respective vehicles before I let go of his hand.

His car is parked next to mine, even though he has his own spot at the top of the labyrinth parking garage, mere steps from his office. It's a sweet gesture, that he would move his car so he could walk me to mine without the lingering moment of awkwardness as he had to walk away.

"Darcy?" My voice almost refuses to come out of my throat, and my gaze drops to my shoes. I never dreamed I would be saying these words to him, ever.

"I have a first name, you know," he teases me before I can go on. I give a weak smile and meet his bright blue gaze for just a moment before I look back down at my shoes.

"William," I repeat, taking another deep breath.

"How about Will?" He interrupts me again, and once again a smile flashes on to my face, and I wish that I hadn't let go of his hand, because now a car is in between us.

"Will," I repeat for the last time, finally letting my eyes move from their focus on my feet up to his bow tie, and finally his eyes. I scratch the back of my neck, suddenly wishing I had never gotten into this endeavor. The weight of the words hangs heavy in my stomach, and I know if I don't let them out now, I might never have the bravery to do so. I heave another deep breath before heaving out the words. "Iloveyou."

My gaze drops once again, and his hand drops from the handle of his door. He gives me a quirky half-smile, a grin that I had never seen before – all his other smiles were mild or fake. Didn't I say something about smiling contorting the face (as him)? His face looks far from contorted. He looks handsome.

He repeats my words with a pause in between each one, so it's actually coherent. "I love you?" Perhaps the inflection wasn't meant as a question, but I nod at my shoes, chewing slightly on my lip as I wonder how we had gone from agreeing to being a couple to standing outside our cars in a dimly lit parking garage.

"I love you," I repeat, pounding heart somewhat quieted as I blink once, twice, three times, and then turn away. Just as I am about to open the door to my car, I hear his voice sound behind me.

"I love you too, Lizzie Bennet." When I turn back, just for a half of a moment, he is smiling. I like his smile.

"I'll see you later, Will."

Ducking into my car was my sole refuge and I couldn't help but wonder what this was going to come to. Driving through San Francisco with the setting California sun settling a gold glow on everything it touched didn't help, because the tiniest glimmer of blue sea I could see from in between the buildings reminded me of his eyes.

"Will." Even as I said it aloud, it seemed to fit him strangely, like a pair of new shoes not yet broken in. Even as my eyes were fixed steadily on the road, thoughts were tossed around in my head, searching for a memory.

William. Darcy. Those were the only two names I could think he had ever been called.

Gigi had called him William. Bing called him Darcy. Fitz had called him Darcy too, hadn't he?

Even so, the thought made me smile. If the name were an object, I would be holding it close to my heart right now, because it belonged only to the two of us. The name itself belonged to him, but he had lent it to me, or maybe given it to me to give back to him.

He is perplexing.

I like that.


End file.
